


Rejection

by Vegetableswillhavetheirrevenge



Series: Sam and Jack (AKA: the Jam Fam) [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (That's my new name for the Jack and Sam Family), Allusions to past rape/sexual assault, Canon? What Canon?, Gen, I am an angst monster, I do not care for the ending of S13, Jack is Awesome, Jam Fam, Sam is the best dad, Teen tag for canon-level violence, The MCD tag is for a canon death, Why are there not more fics about the Jam Fam?, no worries there, so there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 08:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16155224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vegetableswillhavetheirrevenge/pseuds/Vegetableswillhavetheirrevenge
Summary: When given the wrong type of blood, humans can experience *extremely* adverse affects- up to and including Death. So what if the same can be said for angels (or archangels, rather) who bite off a bit more than they can chew where Grace is concerned?Or: An AU version of what happened in that church. Because the Sam/Lucifer storyline deserved a better end than what we were given.





	Rejection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liron_aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liron_aria/gifts).



> So yeah. As you may have gathered from the summary (and the tags), I was (and am)... not exactly happy with how SPN ended a storyline/relationship which has haunted Sam through at least nine seasons worth of this show. This is one idea I had for how to rectify that.  
> I hope it gives you as much satisfaction reading as it did me writing.

Sam thudded to the floor with a painful grunt, his knees buckling under him (anyone who thought angelic flight was bad clearly had never travelled by archangel express before) and sending him sprawling. He began to struggle his way back up in an instant, though (he knew better than to stay down when Lucifer was in the vicinity, nausea be damned) and, by some strange miracle, managed to get to his knees by the time the taunting began.

“Really, Sam?” _(Lucifer had Jack.)_ “Hitching a ride?” _(How could he get Lucifer away from Jack?)_ “I mean-” _(He’d acted purely on instinct when he’d grabbed hold, but there hadn’t exactly been enough time to think up a plan, and he needed one. Fast.)_ “-do you ever quit?”

_(Maybe if he made him angry enough?)_

“Go to Hell.”

Sam tried not to look as Lucifer dropped Jack _(Limp. Too limp. Was he going to be okay without his Grace?)_ unceremoniously to the floor. He could play this game. Keep Lucifer’s eyes on him. As long as it meant Jack had a way to get out, he could do this.

“Hell. Yeah,” came the dismissive answer. “Been there, done that.” A sharp kick to the face followed a moment later, powerful enough to completely eradicate any and all semblance of balance Sam had managed to regain (though not, both surprisingly and thankfully, shattering his nose in the process) and send him tumbling haphazardly across the ground.

Lucifer was after him in a second, and it took every last ounce of self-restraint not to try to scuttle further away when an ice-cold hand reached down and hoisted him aloft, familiar fingers practically slotting into place around his neck. He could see Jack in the corner of his vision, though, clambering clumsily to his feet, so as long as Sam could manage to effectively convey some instructions for Jack to get the _hell_ out of dodge, there was still a slim chance that the kid would be able to get out of here alive.

It was, ironically, strangely fortuitous that he was so well-versed in the art of being strangled.

“You know,” Lucifer announced conversationally, not relinquishing his _(surprisingly weak- Sam would have expected more from a souped-up archangel. Was Lucifer planning on dragging this out? He_ had _always enjoyed some of their longer “games.” Until he got bored, that is. But that wasn’t usually the case when he was in this kind of mood, so why…?)_ grip on Sam’s throat. “It’s been real-

“-fun.”

_What the?_

“I had a really great time with you,”

_Had Sam just imagined that out-of-place pause? Lucifer hadn’t acknowledged it, after all. Were the fading levels of oxygen messing with his brain?_

“-but I think we should see other people.”

_He needed to stay focused. Try to breathe. He wouldn’t be any good to Jack if he couldn’t keep Lucifer’s attention on him, and he couldn’t do_ that _if he couldn’t even keep his damn brain in check for_ once _in his life._

Rasping in yet another breath, feeling it burn as it forced its way through what little space there was left, Sam tried as best he could to signal to Jack to get away, hoping beyond all hope that the Nephilim _(former Nephilim?)_ would both understand and actually _obey_ , all the while trying not to give in to the memory of what lay behind the smug, vindictive face staring mockingly back at him. _(Something was wrong with what he was seeing. What was it?)_

“What do you say?”

Without warning, the icy hand released him, dropping him to the floor and reaching in an instant for his chest. Sam’s own hands flew forward instinctively, seeking any form of support available as he struggled to stay standing, bracing automatically for the searing agony he knew was about to rip through him, burning cold through his veins and sending waves of light cascading across his vision. Those hate-filled eyes turned a mottled gold and something ripped through him even as a voice in the background yelled for it to “Stop!”- something sharp and warm and…

…gentle?

Lucifer reared back at the same time as Sam did, pure shock creating a momentary mirror as they both stared, wide-eyed, at the still out-stretched hand which hovered between them.

“Get away from him.”

The firm, determined voice yanked the two of them out of their daze, Lucifer reacting faster than Sam’s injured human body was able as he whipped around, fixating on Jack once more.

“And why should I do that?”

To Jack’s credit, his stance didn’t waver even at the speed with which Lucifer lessened the distance between them. Instead, he clenched his fists against his sides, jutting his chin stubbornly forward. “Because I told you to.”

“Ha! Do you seriously think that will work? Ordering me around?”

Sam knew what would happen before it did, but he was too far away to keep it from happening. First a backhand then, while Jack was still stumbling back from that, a volley of punches- each one driving Jack further and further back towards the door.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Lucifer continued, permeating every few words with yet another hit, “but I’m not exactly known for doing what I’m told. Kinda pretty famous for the whole rebellion thing, actually. And some pathetic little _failure_ of an experiment is hardly going to stop that now.”

There was something wrong, though. The hits were landing, and Sam could see that they hurt, but with that much Grace in him? That much power? Just _one_ of those punches should have been enough to drive Jack to his knees. At the very _least_. The pause. The weak grip. The lack of pain? And now _this?_

He wasn’t exactly sure _how_ but maybe, just _maybe_ , they _did_ have a chance, after all.

Forcing himself forward, Sam reached Lucifer just as the he was pulling back for yet another punch and, fuelled by pure adrenaline, grabbed the archangel’s shoulder and _yanked_ with all his might. And this time, instead of giving in to panic or fear or pain when Lucifer grabbed him, he met the Devil head-on with a smirk of his own.

“ _Really?_ ” Lucifer was saying. “You’re _still_ trying to interrupt? Do you really want me to yourself _that badly_ , Sammy boy? Because if that’s what you want?” He walked Sam backwards, the hand on his neck oscillating between hard, furious squeezes and an almost tender guide and, pushing Sam down onto that same bench from earlier, leaned down until his lips were practically resting against Sam’s ear. “I’ll make _sure_ to make it hurt in _aaaaaall_ the wrong places, just like you remember. So just be a good little pet and _sit still_ until I’m done here. Before I have to _make_ you.”

The icy whisper of that breath so close to him again had Sam shivering but, even so, he didn’t let himself look away as Lucifer drew back, cataloguing instead every single outward sign that could confirm his theory.

Sweat just at the hairline. A slight blemish on the left cheek which Sam was certain hadn’t been there just a minute earlier. An ever so slight tightness to bely that self-assured smirk.

Sam’s grin widened, his heartbeat pulsing just a little bit faster as he stared the Devil straight in the eye.

“Looking a little worse for wear, though. Are you sure you’d even be _able_ to make me?”

Before he could expand on anything, however, a desperate shout sounded from just a few feet away. “Sam!”

Then, barely a second or so later, a solid shape _barrelled_ into Lucifer’s side, and just for a moment the tables were turned, and _Lucifer_ was the one lying on the floor. Jack didn’t waste the opportunity, holding out a hand to pull Sam to his feet.

“Sam? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted quietly, shifting into a more defensive position and sensing as Jack did the same. “But _something_ is.”

Suddenly, a strange sort of rattling gurgle echoed throughout the room, and both Sam and Jack watched as Lucifer stood, a faint shaking just barely visible in his hands as he snarled at the pair of them.

“You two _Just. Don’t. Learn_ , do you?” And, in a single flash, Sam was suddenly on the other side of the room, Lucifer’s hand back around his neck and Jack’s startled voice barely permeating the fast-fading ringing in his ears.

“Well, Sam,” Lucifer bit at him, “congratulations. Looks like I’ll be dealing with you first, after all.” And then his other hand came up again, and Jack yelled in the background- closer this time- and Sam sent over a silent prayer of apology even as he braced himself for the killing blow he knew was about to come and-

-And, again, he was filled not with cutting arctic winds, but instead with the kind of calm, quiet lull which could usually only ever be found in the eye of a storm.

Lucifer released him with a disgusted growl, flinging him to the ground and spinning on his heel all in one smooth motion and, before Sam could do more than blink in shock and (yet more) pain, he was storming back towards Jack once more.

“ _You,_ ” he snarled. “ _You’re_ doing this. _How?_ ”

Jack stumbled backwards, alarm in every line of his body. “I- wha-I don’t-” Then, as Lucifer made as though to grab at his collar once more, he threw his arms up protectively and- “No!”

And there, _right before Sam’s eyes_ , Lucifer froze. Just for an instant- not even a second, really- but he _actually_ stopped.

And that was when Sam figured it out.

…Kind of.

Forcing himself to his feet, he staggered forward, legs still shaking from this newest flight and eyes glued firmly to the scene playing out before him.

There was a tremor running throughout Lucifer’s entire body now- slight, yes, but very much visible- enough so that Sam almost missed it when the archangel made a motion Sam had seen any number of times now, from any number of sources.

“Jack, duck!” He yelled- just in time, as a flash of silver sliced through the air precisely where Jack’s neck had been less than a second before. Sam’s heart thudded in his chest, fear and instant relief constricting his lungs and catching at the breath which was trying to claw its way down his throat.

_That was too close_.

Willing every single ounce of strength he could muster into his legs, Sam practically _launched_ himself across the room, dread paralysing his mind as Lucifer swung his blade _again_ and _again_ , each time missing Jack by a millimetre or two at most. He couldn’t even process what Lucifer was saying- his entire focus shrinking down to _stopping that blade before he lost Jack again_. Lucifer heard him coming, though, turning in a swirl of furious motion, and Sam was forced to change course, his legs bending automatically to allow him to duck beneath the cold, hard metal whilst also giving him the momentum needed to spring forward once it had passed overhead, slamming into Jack and rolling the both of them over and over and over until he had put a good few metres between them and the already-following archangel.

There was no time to stay on the ground though and, with one final roll, he pushed himself to his feet, dragging Jack along with him.

“It’s your Grace,” he explained when they were up, low and soft in hopes that Lucifer wouldn’t hear. “I don’t know why, but it’s like his body is rejecting it or something. Or maybe _it’s_ rejecting _him_. I don’t know. But he doesn’t have control.”

“So you think we have a chance?” Jack asked, just as low, the determination in his voice just barely disguising whatever doubts and fears were running through his mind.

“I think we have a chance,” Sam agreed. “Just… do whatever you can, okay? See if you can control it.”

“You can’t,” Lucifer sneered ( _and there went any hopes about the hearing thing_ ). “Do you really think I’m going to allow myself to be beaten by a science experiment gone wrong and my own personal chew toy? _Really_ , Sam? You think _I_ can’t get a handle on some measly little new-born’s Grace? After everything we’ve been through together?

“I’m honestly insulted.”

Then, throwing out a hand, Lucifer sent the two of them flying back, pinning them in place against the solid oak of the door. Sam hissed as the edge of his hip scraped against the hard metal of the handle.

That was gonna leave one hell of a mark if they made it out of this.

…Which was looking decidedly less likely now that he _couldn’t even move_.

_Damn it_ , why did he always have to get so ahead of himself?

There was nothing he could do about it now. This didn’t change the fact that this whole ‘malfunctioning Grace’ thing was still their best bet of getting out of here alive.

Of _Jack_ getting out of this alive.

Gritting his teeth through the pain, he twisted his head as far as he was able.

“Jack. Now.”

“I’m _trying_.”

And he was. He really was. It was easy to see. His eyes were laser-focused, face reddening and cheeks quivering with effort.

But, if Lucifer was feeling _any_ of it, it certainly wasn’t showing.

“You can do this,” he insisted, even as Lucifer’s widening grin practically screamed otherwise. “That’s _your_ power, Jack. Don’t force it, just _feel_ it, okay? I believe in y-”

“Aww, look at that,” Lucifer taunted, a twitch of his now raised thumb and forefinger pressing Sam’s airway even tighter. He took his final few steps forward, coming to a stop barely two feet away. “Daddy Sammy being as encouraging as always. Doesn’t it just make you sick? Now-” He paused a moment, tapping the tip of his blade against his lip- “the question is, which one of you will feel the most pain by watching the other die?

“Hmmm… choices, choices…

“How about… eeny-

“Meeny-

“Miny-

“Mo.”

The blade was left pointing at Sam.

Closing his eyes as Lucifer stepped even closer, lifting his weapon up so that it was pointed directly at Sam’s heart, Sam braced himself for the inevitable. And, in these final moments, despite knowing that there was no way Jack could _possibly_ hear him anymore, he prayed.

‘ _I’m sorry.’_

Icy fingers brushed gently at his hair. A soft voice whispered “I win” into his ear. The cold sting of metal sliced through his shirt, coming to a momentary rest against his flesh. And then-

“ _NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”_

Sam dropped to the floor, Jack at his side and the blade clattering loudly on the hard marble at his feet. His eyes flew open, watching in macabre fascination as Lucifer shuddered in place, shards of light flaring on and off beneath quickly flaking skin and, moving almost in a trance, he bent down and took the abandoned weapon firmly into his own hand…

And stabbed.

And, as his hand twisted viciously, jerking the blade through flesh he had dreamt of maiming for hundreds upon thousands of years, he watched as those golden pulses of light he had first seen on that very first day of Jack’s life twisted towards it, driving through Lucifer’s body and rippling inwards one after another after another, pulling the metal deeper and deeper until it had passed the ribcage and, with one final push, Sam was able to thrust it deep into the Devil’s heart.

And then everything went white.

And Lucifer screamed.

And all Sam could see as his hand released was a glint of metal, falling away from him… and dragging Lucifer’s limp and lifeless corpse down with it.

He blinked once.

Twice.

Again. Hardly even able to distinguish whether the spots of blinding brightness still dancing across his vision were _solely_ because of photo-bleaching, or whether some stray wisps were _actually_ seeping through the air and sinking back into Jack’s body.

They had…

They had done it.

They had _actually_ done it.

He didn’t know how. Or why. But the proof was there- lying at his feet, and spread like charcoal shadows across the vast expanse of the church’s floor.

Lucifer. Was gone.

A disbelieving laugh broke the silence, incredulous huffs filling the empty air with a kind of joy Sam had never thought he could possibly bear witness to, and it took him several long seconds to realise that the sound was coming from _him_.

And he didn’t even care.

The next moment, as though some mythical creature had flown through and cut his strings, Sam was on his knees, all his strength abandoning him for the sheer, overwhelming sense of _freedom_ which seemed to envelop his entire _soul_. There were tears in his eyes, flowing down his cheeks and into his mouth as he continued to laugh, though the only sound to escape him now was the occasional rush of air.

Lucifer was gone.

Sam was…

Sam was _free_.

A firm yet gentle hand landed on his shoulder, the pressure increasing just slightly as Jack used it to guide himself to the ground, too, before he all but collapsed against Sam’s side.

“We did it,” he breathed, and Sam’s smile, through some strange miracle, widened ever further.

“We did it,” he agreed. 

Lucifer was gone.

And _Jack was alive._

He didn’t know how long they might have stayed here- if he would have been content to just allow himself to turn to stone right where he was, his eyes fixed eternally on that eerily beautiful shadow of feathers which would eternally stain this once pristine hall- were it not, less than a minute later, for the fact that the faint, familiar whisper of wings snagged at the tiny portion of awareness which remained in him.

He looked up- him and Jack both- expecting… well, he didn’t know what-

Only for his heart to stop once more.

“Dean-”

“Sam, how-?”

And then, in just the span of a few short seconds, Lucifer’s death wasn’t the most important thing in his world anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Sam fixes the two of them back up a bit, they return to the Bunker, and everyone gets a-searching. As it turns out, we discover in the next season that that *was* Jack's Grace returning to him, but only partially, so he has a far more muted version of his former powers. 
> 
> (Also, I know I said that the blade used here was silver. That's honestly 'cos I have a little personal vendetta against the whole idea of the 'one golden archangel blade' thing. If there was only one blade capable of killing archangels, then it doens't make any sense for Lucifer to have thought he had killed Gabriel back in S5 (and he also would have been a bit more wary of the idea that Michael had said magical blade back then). So I got rid of it. *shrugs*)


End file.
